


Finding Light

by nicotineoverdose



Series: The three romances of Finding Light [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, oh yea baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicotineoverdose/pseuds/nicotineoverdose
Summary: Hermione ends up in another universe. She has to learn to adapt to the strange land she's found herself in, as well as learn how to deal with her past. She accidentally uncovers a secret about a long lost heir, and finds herself thrust into the Game of Thrones.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Jon Snow
Series: The three romances of Finding Light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858690
Kudos: 24





	Finding Light

They’d done it. The war was over. Voldemort lay in ashes while Harry stood victorious. Hermione choked a smile and ran up into his embrace. “We did it, Harry, we finally did it.”  
She felt his tentative arms stretch around her back before hugging her tightly against him. He buried his head in her hair and sighed in relief.  
“We did it.” He mumbled softly.  
Ron was running up to the pair, grinning from ear to ear, “We did-“  
“Avada Kedavra!” And then he was gone.  
Jolted back into reality, Harry, Hermione, and their friends immediately surrounded the remaining few Death Eaters that were still fighting, most had already escaped. But it was too late. They’d been blinded by their temporary victory, and now their best friend was dead.  
His family screamed and cried. But when the courtyard was cleared, Hermione was still there over Ron’s body. They’d left her there to mourn.  
Hermione sat there, stroking his hair and talking to him about the life she’d planned for the two of them until the next morning.  
Harry placed a hand on her shoulder lifting her from her daze when the sun was starting to peak over the horizon, “It’s time to go.”  
She nodded, and he helped her stand before lifting Ron into his arms. He walked into the great hall with his best friend dead in his arms and laid him down on a cot.  
He grabbed Hermione’s hand and cried. He cried for all the deaths that came from this shit show of a war. All Hermione could do was try to be there for him. Her tears had already ran dry. 

——————

Hermione thrust her sword out at the figure. The boy had snuck into her room while she was sleeping, dagger in hand and seemed fairly intent on taking her life. Too bad for him, she was a light sleeper. It also didn’t help that he’d knocked over and smashed a vase. Unfortunate for the innkeeper who would wake up to find that mess.  
“Who are you, and why are you trying to kill me?” Hermione questioned in a nonsensical tone, her blade pressed flushed against his neck.  
Dropping the dagger, he raised his hands in surrender. Beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “Lucaenys Sand, milady. I was paid to kill you, milady.”  
A Valyrian name... strange.  
“Who hired you?”  
“I don’t know, milady. A man in a black cloak gave me two gold dragons, but he didn’t mention his name, milady. He disappeared right after.”  
Glaring at the boy she moved in and grabbed the dagger he’d dropped onto the floor. Up closer, looking him over, she surmised he couldn’t be more than a child. “How old are you, boy?”  
“Three and ten, milady.”  
A bit older than she’d thought, but close enough. Whose bad side did she get on this time? “Don’t make another attempt on my life if you value your own.”  
He nodded hastily, wanting the sword and her ire to be as far from him as possible.  
She looked him over again. He had a head of red hair and distinctly violet eyes. Baby fat still covering his face, softening his high cheekbones and features overall. He was skinny, covered in dirt, and wearing nothing more than rags. It looked like neither of them had anything but the clothes on their back.  
She sheathed her sword but kept the boy’s dagger in hand before sitting on the bed. “Sit.” She commanded the boy, nodding at the armchair across from her.  
“Aye, milady.”  
From what she knew, purple eyes meant Valyrian descent “Who are your parents, boy?”  
“I don’t have any parents. I’m an orphan, they left me at birth.” He said bitterly.  
“Your eyes are purple, boy. That’s Valyrian ancestry. Are you sure you don’t know who your parents are?”  
He paled considerably, gaining a sickly look when she mentioned his eyes. “You can see the color, milady?” He asked, his voice hardly a whisper.  
“Yes, it’s clear as day.”  
“Not to anyone aside from you and myself, milady. I’ve always been told by others that my eyes were grey.”  
It must’ve been magic. Of what sort, she wasn’t sure, but there was no other explanation.  
“You’re of Valyrian descent, boy. For some reason, the proof of it has been hidden.” Turning her head, she saw the sun rising through the window. “As to why it’s hidden, I don’t know. Nor am I particularity inclined to find out.”  
“Please milady,” He reached out for her arm desperately, before facing his dagger’s pointy end and stopping short. “You’re the only one whose seen me for who I truly am. I want to know who my parents are. Please, help me.”  
His red hair and puppy dog eyes stirred a memory of a past she’d sooner forget. No. She spun the dagger around, handle faced towards him. He tentatively grabbed it and she let go. “I cannot help you, boy. I have more important things to attend to.”  
Afraid of her drawing yet another blade at his throat, he nodded resignedly.  
She headed for the door, before she left, hesitating slightly, she said, “Here’s a piece of advice, assassins don’t live long. I’d recommend you drop it before you get on too many bad sides.” She of all people would know.  
She shut the door behind her and took a breath. Don’t remember, Hermione, mentally chastising herself. Gathering herself, she headed out of the inn and started walking away.

——————

“This is the place. How do you like it?” Hermione asked Harry as they walked through their prospective home.  
“It’s very cozy. Quaint.” The little cottage was right at the edge of Hogsmeade. The outside was small, but like many wizarding houses, it was enlarged on the inside. The ground floor had a bedroom down the hall, and the attic served as another bedroom. Both had separately functioning floos. It was the perfect place for the two of them.  
“It’s within our budget, and you can’t beat the location.” Hermione said.  
Nodding, he collapsed on the couch, “I think this is it, Hermione.”  
Hermione sat next to him, “Yea, I think so too.” Pausing, they sat in silence for a minute. “I’m sorry about what happened with Ginny.” Hermione said quietly.  
Tensing a bit, Harry shrugged, “It’s alright. I’m over it.”  
“I just can’t believe- Zabini of all people.”  
“Yeah I know. I couldn’t believe it too.” He paused, “Strangely enough, I don’t blame her. She’s been going through a lot. She’s pretty much lost three brothers. While that’s no excuse for cheating, I understand.”  
She interjected angrily, “We all have been going through rough times. We’ve all lost people.”  
“Yes,” he admitted, “but we all deal with it in different ways. Ginny and I may have broken things off, but we’re still friends. That wont change.”  
“You know, Harry, you don’t have to take everything in stride like it doesn’t affect you. It’s okay to be mad.”  
“I know. But what’s the point in being mad when life is so limited? It’s only going to happen once, and I feel like it’s better to just forgive people for the things they’ve done, rather than hold a grudge forever. Grudges are tiring.”  
Looking at Harry, Hermione saw how the deeply the loss of his best friend had hurt him. He regretted their argument with Ron in the forest, and the months they spent apart when they could’ve been together. She regretted it too.  
“It’ll be okay, Harry.” She said, throwing her arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. “We’ll be okay.”

——————

“Have you heard about the situation happening right now at the Rose Palace?”  
“Only general whispers, but I’m not fully aware.”  
“The slaves organized a revolt, they killed all their masters, as well as their wives and children. It was absolutely terrifying.”  
“That’s disgusting. Surely the slaves have been caught?”  
“They are holding a few nobles hostage in the Palace, so the other houses are reluctant to move in.”  
Hermione was at the market, stalking a target. The man she was assigned to was a up and coming merchant, who’d denied a noble cheaper prices, and outright insulted him in public. Hermione was to make an example of this man, who was a stall over selling wine.  
Her ears perked up at the conversation, she couldn’t help but be intrigued. Slaves very rarely did anything to speak up against their masters in Essos, let alone arrange a coup and kill them.  
“Disgusting. Just goes to show what barbarians they are. You can never really trust a slave-”  
“Shut your mouth.”  
All heads turned to look at the person who said that.  
The man was sitting against a wall, he had dark leathery skin and clothes old and torn. He took a swig of the drink in his hand as he stood up drunkenly, “Slavery is a mortal wrong, and your gods will judge you for it. People who are enslaved shouldn’t be treated as less than, and everyone has stood by complacent for long enough.”  
Shaking her head from the distraction of the strange confrontation happening, she slid behind the stall of the man she was hired to take out. It was the perfect distraction.  
The raggedy man was talking about how it has been too long. They’ve suffered too much in bondage. How It was time to overthrow the nobles.  
The idea was nice, but it was impossible.  
People were stirring at the man’s speech. Angry boos and hopeful cheers alike were coming with every sentence he spoke. It was clear that Essos was divided to the core about this subject. Even though the slaves were in the majority, those in power were rich and powerful enough to squash any attempts of rebellion before it happened. Until what happened just now with the uprising at the palace.  
She slid behind the stall and behind the merchant, knocking him out with chloroform, and pouring poison in his mouth once he lay still on the ground. She pinched his nose so he swallowed and then stepped out from behind the stall.  
“The people deserve better!” Were the finishing words of his speech, and guards were coming for him. He didn’t resist. “For the revolution! For freedom!” 

——————

Ron’s funeral was a small affair held a month after the battle. Immediate family and friends were the only ones invited. It was quiet, with only tears and sobs filling the graveyard dedicated to those who died during the Battle of Hogwarts.  
The Weasley family were all there, aside from Percy. He never forgave himself for being on the wrong side of the war, so he ran away. He was now in the States, doing Merlin knows what.  
Neville, Luna, Hermione, Harry, and Zabini were the only ones there who weren’t part of the family. Ginny insisted on bringing her lover turned boyfriend along, threatening her absence if he wasn’t allowed to be there too.  
It was a beautiful day, the sun was just beginning to set and cast golden hues on their tears when they said goodbye to the casket and threw dirt over it.  
“He’s in a better place.” Mr. Weasley muttered as the grave diggers started to fill up the grave with their shovels. With the funeral ended, people started slowly walking back to the castle through an empty and chilly Hogsmeade.  
“C’mon, Hermione.” Harry said with his hand on Hermione’s shoulder as she stood unmoving, gazing with glazed eyes at the gravestone and freshly turned dirt.  
At her nod, Harry gently grabbed her hand led her away.  
They walked to the Shrieking Shack and settled on the front steps of the house. Harry pulled Hermione closer with his arm around her shoulder.  
“Promise you’ll never leave me, Harry?” Hermione mumbled quietly.  
“Never.” He promised.

**Author's Note:**

> posted on fanfiction under starlightoverdose.


End file.
